


The Game

by Raelynn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Phone Sex, Public Sex, Sexting, inappropriate use of a client's garden, smutember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raelynn/pseuds/Raelynn
Summary: Originally posted for the Smutember collection, here's my entry in the "public sex" category.





	

Neither one of them took responsibility for how it started, but once it did, neither one of them were willing to back down. 

It began like their relationship did, Molly suspected. Slowly, without discussion. Molly would return to her flat after a long shift at Barts, and Sherlock would be there with her favorite takeaway and they’d eat on the sofa, Molly putting on whatever she was interested in watching (usually Doctor Who, but it varied). Sherlock would watch with a minimum of fussing, and then he’d be gone.

That morphed into Sherlock showing up at her flat in the middle of the night complaining that he couldn’t sleep, and crawling into her bed, spooning up behind her and then disappearing in the wee hours of the morning before she awoke. It had been a month before she realized he’d started keeping a pair of pyjamas at the flat.

It was another month before it was toothbrushes and his expensive hair products and the nights in front of the telly turned into Sherlock just saying that he “might as well” just sleep there.

And then he’d show up for lunches at Barts. Or insist she come with him to Angelo’s for dinner, because a person should only eat so much takeaway. And Angelo was good at selecting wine.

The first time they’d had sex there hadn’t been any words, either. Molly had woken up in the middle of the night and instead of their usual spooning, they were tangled in each other’s arms. Her stirring woke him, and they stared at each other in the soft moonlight coming through her sheer yellow curtains, and the next thing either of them knew, he was pressing her into the mattress and she was shouting out his name.

So if neither one of them could really recall how their Facetime game began, it was just par for the course for this relationship. They’d arrived here organically, and neither one of them wanted to talk about it too much, lest the bubble break.

oOo

Molly sighed, loosening her ponytail. It had been a long, hard day in the morgue. It was nearly 9:00 pm, and she was finally able to collapse at her desk, staring at the stack of paperwork waiting for her. She was debating whether or not she could put it off until tomorrow when her phone buzzed, and she slipped it out of her lab coat pocket.

Sherlock. Via Facetime. 

Biting her lower lip, she turned down the volume on her phone before she answered it. It took a moment for her to figure out what she was looking at, and then she realized it was Sherlock, the phone held down low and pointed up at his face. He grinned at her just long enough to make sure she saw it, and then flipped the camera around.

His feet, the ground - he must be at a crime scene. And then… yes, there it was. His long, dexterous fingers wrapped around his cock. She could picture him, knowing this game well. He was in a back alley somewhere away from the scene, head leaned up against a wall, while one hand held the camera, and the other held himself.

She wished she were at home (he probably assumed she was already) and could have the volume up, but watching his hand slowly fisting over his cock was treat enough. She stared at her phone as his fingers practically danced along his length, his wrist twisting at the end as it covered his head. 

As with every round of this game, he didn’t take long - the camera shaking as his hips snapped in time with his hands and then he froze as he finished, the camera moving just in time to watch him splatter against the wall he’d been leaning against. He flipped the camera again, showing his face, and he waggled his eyebrows at her just before he ended the call.

She was still smiling when the text came in. 

“Your move, Dr. Hooper.”

oOo

And so it went. They’d find new and more risky places to Facetime the other one while they masturbated or just got naked or whatever they thought they could get away with. Molly in the locker room at Barts. Sherlock in the guest room of John and Mary’s while he was babysitting little Deirdre. Molly in the foyer of 221B while Sherlock was in Cardiff on a case.

Then Sherlock Facetimed her from Mycroft’s office, in Mycroft’s office chair, his cock swollen and heavy and looking so beautifully red against his pale, pale hands. He hadn’t had time to finish, but it was still his crowning achievement in their risky game. She had spent weeks trying to come up with a way to top that, and she still hadn’t found the right place and opportunity.

But she had a plan. She just had to wait until circumstances presented themselves.

oOo

It had been weeks since Sherlock’s call from Mycroft’s office, but true to their game, he did not question why she hadn’t taken her turn yet. Life continued on pretty much as it had during their entire courtship. Nights at Baker Street, nights at Molly’s flat, long stretches where Sherlock would be busy with a case, but would always find time to text her at least once a day to let her know she was loved and missed.

Sherlock had just finished up a case for a London socialite, recovering some jewelry that had been stolen from her home. It had been a member of the household staff, and by way of thanking him (in addition to a rather nice cheque), she had wanted to throw a small dinner party in his honor.

Sherlock had mentioned it off-handedly to Molly, saying that he was trying to come up with an excuse to get out of going, but Molly was having none of it. She’d never been to a fancy dinner party before, and surely his client wouldn’t object to Sherlock bringing his girlfriend to an event being thrown in his honor?

With plenty of grumbling, Sherlock accepted the invite, and told Mrs. Heartford that he’d be bringing a plus one.

They had gotten through the before dinner drinks with a minimum of fuss. Molly was pretty good at keeping Sherlock on his best behavior. The crowd had drifted out of the large library the drinks were being hosted in out onto a stone patio that lead down some stairs into the heavily wooded gardens. Sherlock and Molly stood at the edge of the patio, looking out over the grounds.

“This is exceptionally beautiful,” remarked Molly, sipping her champagne. “I’m glad we were able to come out.” She leaned into Sherlock, and they quietly stood, enjoying the view.

Staff came around, refreshing drinks, and Molly stole a look at her watch. Dinner was going to be served in the dining room in another forty-five minutes, and this was the first time they’d been left alone since their arrival.

She stepped away from Sherlock, who turned and looked at her with a questioning glance. She looked down the stairs and back at Sherlock. “Let’s go explore while everyone’s busy drinking.”

Sherlock shrugged and they both set their drinks down on a high table nearby, and Molly took his hand and led him down the stairs and into the garden without a single look back at the house and the other guests.

They made their way down well-manicured paths, finally coming to a small inner garden. Molly stopped, looking around, and then snuggled up to Sherlock, leaning up to kiss him.

Sherlock’s arms wrapped around her, and their kiss deepened. After a few moments, Molly reached between them, cupping him in her hand. 

“Molly,” said Sherlock in a low voice, breaking their kiss. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Molly grinned up at him, her hand rubbing against him. “Just taking our little game to its conclusion, I’d say. It’s obvious we’ve both got a public sex kink, and we have,” she glanced at her watch. “Another 40 minutes before we’re due in for dinner.”

Sherlock glanced towards the house and then grinned down at Molly, capturing her mouth in another kiss. “We’ll need to be quick,” he said.

“Mmmm,” she agreed, reaching down with her other hand and trying to get his trousers unfastened. “Being quick is not usually your strong suit but I think we can manage.”

Sherlock smiled at the compliment and glanced around, removing Molly’s hands from his trousers and making his way over to a small bench. He sat down, and moved her to stand between his legs. 

Molly, having hoped to pull this off, had worn a flared dress that came to just above her knees. Sherlock reached down, sliding his hand up her thigh and grinning at her when he realized she wasn’t wearing anything under it. “Molly Hooper, you seem to have forgotten your knickers.”

Molly raised her eyebrows at him and grinned as he slid his fingers between her folds, finding her nub with his thumb. Molly gasped, her hands coming down onto his shoulders to hold herself steady, and he dexterously worked as she buried her head on his shoulder, panting into his ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good. You make me feel so good. So wet. So wet I’m going to fuck you right here on this bench. Gonna fuck you for every time you’ve sent me video of you touching that magnificent cock of yours when it was too far away for me to touch.”

Molly continued babbling into Sherlock’s ear as he plunged two fingers into her and rubbed her clit in the large circles he knew made her fall apart until she couldn’t form words anymore.

By the time she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked down, he’d managed to wipe his fingers off on his handkerchief and had unfastened his trousers, pulling his cock out. 

Molly resisted the urge to drop to her knees, knowing the ground would leave marks and her dress wouldn’t hide them. She sat down on the bench next to Sherlock and replaced his hand on the cock with her own, stroking him firmly but slowly while leaning over to kiss him.

In record time, Sherlock was hard and leaking already. Molly stood and gathered her dress up around her waist, making sure Sherlock was watching. She started to climb up onto his lap, but he stopped her, putting his hands on her waist and turning her around. She grinned over her shoulder and allowed him to lift her, reaching between her legs and positioning his cock so that she dropped right onto it. 

Wiggling, Molly leaned over, bracing her hands on Sherlock’s knees while his large hands wrapped around her waist. Sherlock stretched his legs out, bringing her down to where her feet could just touch the ground, and once she got her purchase, there was no stopping them.

Molly rocked her hips, sliding his cock deeper into her. Sherlock moaned, his hand gripping her hips even harder as she dropped onto his cock again and again. One hand snaked around to her front, dipping in and enjoying the way his cock slid across his fingertips as he worked her clit, trying to bring them both to completion as quickly as possible. 

Molly ground down on his lap, throwing her head back and watching him over her shoulder as they panted furiously and chased their orgasms. There had been enough interrupted masturbation sessions during their game, they were determined to finish!

It didn’t take long before Molly was quivering on Sherlock’s lap, biting her lip and trying not to cry out as she clenched around him. Sherlock pressed down on her clit, giving her the pressure she loved when she came, revelling in the way she spasmed around his cock as she came.

After giving her a moment to catch her breath, he nudged her off of his lap. She stood, looking at him with questions in her eyes. He answered them quickly by turning them both around so she faced the bench. “Turn around. I can’t finish in you and then take you back to dinner, but I’m not quite done yet,”

Molly gathered up the front of her dress in one hand and leaned over the bench, holding herself up with the other. Sherlock grabbed the back of her dress, pulling it up to reveal her perfect bottom and wasting no time in sliding back into her wet and swollen heat. 

Sherlock resisted the urge to close his eyes, savoring every sight of their wicked tryst. He started thinking about how easily they could get caught if someone else decided to visit the garden before dinner, which only made him harder and want her more. Soon he was slamming into her, choking back his own moans as he neared his finish. Waiting until the very last minute, he finally pulled out, spraying thick strands of come between Molly’s legs and under the bench.

He tucked himself away quickly, then helped Molly to stand and rearrange her dress. 

They looked at each other and started giggling, the reality of what they’d just done settling in. Molly bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I think we should probably return to the party, Mr. Holmes,” she said seriously, placing her arm in his.

“Indeed, Miss Hooper. We wouldn’t want to be missed.”

With another stifled giggle, the two of them made their way out of the garden and back to the party. Mrs. Heartford was there. “Oh, there you two are, I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to introduce you to…” 

She droned on, as the two of them made their way up the stairs and back to the dinner party. It would be unbearable, but it was worth every moment they’d spent in the garden.

Of course, now they’d have to come up with a new game...


End file.
